


Abducted!

by Sandboy28



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Other, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-29
Updated: 2014-08-29
Packaged: 2018-02-15 08:03:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2221629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sandboy28/pseuds/Sandboy28
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock has been abducted! This time by Irene Adler!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Abducted!

Abducted!

It happened quickly. One minute Sherlock Holmes was walking home from the shops with a fresh pack of cigarettes tucked neatly into his long coat pocket and the next he was struggling for his life. A black van had rounded Gower Street corner and stopped next to him, that door sliding over and a huge figure had clutched one hand around Sherlock’s arm and the other had pressed a soft cloth stinking of ether over his nose and mouth. Seconds later he was insensible.   
He awoke to the stomach lurching stench of body odour and leaking petrol. There were figures swimming in and out of his blurry ken. They were speaking in hushed, clipped voices as his coat was stripped from him. He was flopped onto his stomach to bind his hands behind him, the ether making him too weak to struggle against it. They pulled him into a sitting position and he felt rough hands pinch his face. One of the ruffians was behind him with his arms encircling him. A gruff voice spoke to his slack face;  
“Relax now. There’s a good boy. Don’t struggle and we won’t hurt you.” The words pierced Sherlock’s nervous system, shooting adrenaline through him as he realized he was being abducted. Even in this muzzy state he struggled to observe details. The accent, the appearance of the thugs who had him, how many were there? Presently he felt the van lurch into movement.   
“Wh…who are you/ Where are you taking me?’ he managed weakly. His eyes began to clear enough to see the massive thug who hovered over him. He locked eyes with him warily.   
“Now, now. Don’t you worry Mr. Holmes. you’ll find out soon enough.” The thug patted his back roughly, chuckling. “Just behave yourself and you’ll be fine.” Sherlock recognized the slight twang of a Northern native.   
Sherlock knew even as the man spoke he must try to get away before these morons had a chance to harm him. He mentally calculated the distance between his body and the van door. When they finally stopped he would let them take him off and bolt for the nearest street. Until then he would bide his time. It would do no good to attempt escape now, with the moving vehicle and his hands tied behind him. He decided to find out all he could.   
“Are you going to harm me?’ he asked, hoping for some reaction in the kidnapper’s face. The man smiled slightly and then made a mockingly sympathetic face.   
“Of course not! Don’t be scared.” He winked at Sherlock which was mildly unsettling. “Be a good boy and nobody’s gonna hurt you, okay?” he squeezed Sherlock’s narrow shoulder for emphasis. Sherlock nodded meekly. There were three of them in the back: The one holding him from behind, sitting with Sherlock almost in his lap, his hands gripping both of Sherlock’s arms. His breath stank of alcohol and vomit. The one speaking to him, and another, thinner one who hadn’t said anything yet. There was a driver Sherlock had not seen as of yet.   
They drove for about thirty minutes before stopping. The verbal one, as Sherlock began to think of him pulled the van door open. Sherlock tensed as the one behind him stood and pulled him up to walk him out. The thinner one put a pistol to Sherlock’s cheek. “Don’t try anything, Laddie or I’ll put a bullet through that pretty face.” Sherlock’s chest tightened and he abandoned any plans of escape. He was frog-marched through a courtyard into a large house. Once inside, the four abductors encircled him. The verbal one, who was a full head taller than Sherlock faced him and ruffled his dark curls companionably.   
“Such a good boy for us, eh lads?” They laughed in agreement. “Now, you’ll be meeting someone and we expect you to be on your best behaviour.” He was walked into a room just beyond the foyer. “Here he is, miss!’ The last word slammed into Sherlock like a hammer as the realization that he had been abducted by…  
“Hello, Mr. Holmes!” Irene Adler exclaimed. “Boys, do take those restraints off. Make him comfortable. Would you like a drink, Sherlock?” She approached him, smiling her shark-like smile. Her lips were blood red and her demeanor was cat like.   
“I should have known.” Sherlock sighed in exasperation. He rubbed his now untethered wrists. “Tell me what you want so I can give it to you and be on my way.” His face bore a slightly bemused expression. Irene walked around him as he followed her with his gaze.   
“You can leave now, boys. I’ll take him from here.” The goons obeyed wordlessly. “I have missed you.” She stage whispered, her hands ghosting over Sherlock’s chiseled face. He sighed in bored exasperation.   
“What do you want with me?’ he asked flatly.   
Irene almost winced at the note of disdain in Sherlock’s voice. “Ah. So it’s going to be like that is it? All business. After all we’ve been to one another.” her smile was cold as she sat on the edge of the desk to face him. After a moment of mutual staring she exhaled sharply. “First, I’d like to introduce you to a friend of mine.” She pressed a button on her intercom with one blood red fingernail.   
A door opened and Sherlock’s heart jogged in his chest. A massive figure strode into the room. Sherlock swallowed thickly despite himself as true panic began to rise up in his chest. Stay calm he told himself. It’s all for show…  
Irene stood and walked over to the figure. He had to be at least 7’6” tall from Sherlock’s estimate. A bit taller than The Golem! He was an older man, in his sixties at least, with salt and pepper hair cut in a flat top. He wore a black turtle neck and dungarees. Murderer’s uniform Sherlock mused humourlessly. Irene turned to Sherlock and introduced them.   
“Sherlock darling this is Dexter. Dexter, Sherlock Holmes.” The massive figure smiled without a trace of menace and approached the young detective, hand out to shake his. Sherlock nervously offered his. Dex towered over him and his enormous hand swallowed Sherlock’s as if he were a child. He shook his hand, surprisingly gently.   
Never one to miss an opportunity, Sherlock immediately kicked into observation mode.   
huge, probable acromegaly. muscular, ex military, married with children, possibly grand children, early to mid sixties, ketchup stain on jumper, red cheeks, possible heart condition, slower due to size, normal IQ  
Sherlock gazed up at this mountainous man and deduced that he was here to frighten, not to injure. This served to calm him somewhat. He turned to Irene and asked again; “Miss Adler, can we come to the point? What do you want?” Irene smiled at Dex conspiratorially.   
“It’s simple, Sherlock dear. I want my phone back.”   
Sherlock took a few seconds to digest this. His reply came with a healthy dose of sarcasm. “So you had me abducted by morons, brought here against my will, threatened me with this obviously peaceful but large man all for a useless piece of tech?” Irene’s smiled wavered slightly.   
“Not quite useless. Remember, Sherlock I always keep a hold card.” She walked up to him and stared him in the eyes. “As clever as you and Mycroft are, you still haven’t gotten me figured out.”   
Sherlock smirked noisily. “Even if that were true, surely you realize that your phone was dismantled long ago. You are foolish but you can’t be this stupid.” At this, Irene looked at Dex as if to prompt him. Dex moved toward Sherlock and closed a huge paw on his shoulder.   
“Mind your manners, son.” His voice was so deep it startled the young detective. He looked up to see the giant man frowning but with a hint of twinkle in his eye. There was something…almost parental in that look. He will not harm me Sherlock deduced. Still, he backed down to avoid an early conflict.   
“No Sherlock. The phone is still operational. I know because it’s sending signals to me even now.” She pulled another phone out and showed a tracking signal to Sherlock, whose face blanched. Her phone was in his flat, with a very unaware John Watson. “As you can imagine, I would rather avoid a conflict and unwanted attention. I prefer to keep this friendly.” The smile was back. Sherlock squirmed slightly.   
“First, tell me what use it is to you.” Sherlock queried. Irene knew Sherlock would never relinquish it without knowing. His curiosity was overpowering. He’d suffer injury to find out.   
“It had a microchip hidden in it which contains certain information I need. Not bribery materials this time. Something much more important.” Sherlock’s ears pricked up as this had the ring of truth to it. He looked up at Dex who smiled mildly and released his shoulder and patted his back companionably. “So I want you to go to 221b Baker Street and get it for me.”   
Sherlock didn’t need to think about this. They had John if they wanted him and would gladly harm if need be. This thought caused Sherlock’s chest to tighten. He dropped his gaze for a moment, looking defeated.   
“Of course we realize that the minute you leave here you’d contact Lestrade and send him to save John. That’s why you are going to have John bring it to us. All by himself.” Sherlock felt fury rising up within. He could withstand any amount of harm but never to John. This insane woman knew that. She was fiercely intelligent and he had a grudging respect for her because of it.   
“Very well. I imagine your goons are already near the flat by now.” Sherlock said, sounding defeated. His mouth turned down unhappily. Anger was rising up in his chest. He struggled to remain calm. Irene must have read this on his face because she approached him and spoke in a serious tone.   
“No one is going to harm John, Sherlock. You’ll simply phone him and tell him to bring my phone outside and hand it to one of my associates. I promise he won’t be harmed.” She smiled and ran a finger down Sherlock’s cheek. “As for you however…” She stepped away and snapped her fingers. Dex moved with amazing speed for a man of his size and grabbed Sherlock by one arm, holding him firmly. Sherlock’s eyes flashed as adrenaline galvanized him. He began to struggle as Irene laid out the rest of her plan.   
“Sherlock, do you recall how you humiliated me in front of your brother?” Sherlock’s struggles increased. Dex shook him, pointing a warning finger and bidding him to be still. The young man grew still but tense. “Do you recall how upset that made me?” Her voice was even but full of terrible promise. “I would like to give you a small taste of that humiliation.” She gestured to Dex who roughly turned Sherlock to face him.  
“Take your coat and blazer off, son. Don’t make me take them off you.” Sherlock realized that he was in for some kind of retribution but not wanting his struggles to culminate in harm to John. He glared at Dex as he quickly removed his scarf and coat. The blazer came off next and were laid on a chair back.   
“What are you going to do to me?’ Sherlock asked nervously. “I can’t call John if you injure me.” Dex took Sherlock’s forearms again and swung him into view.   
“Listen! I’m not going to harm you. Listen to Miss Adler and this will go a lot easier on you.” Sherlock forced himself to remain calm.   
“Nothing too terrible. Just a tiny taste of the humiliation I felt when you laid my soul bare in front of Mycroft. Dex…” The giant man picked Sherlock up and tucked him under his arm as if he were a doll. He walked to an armless chair in the middle of the room and sat down, plopping the young detective face down, over his knees. Fearing for John, Sherlock cooperated. he felt the big man reach around and unfasten his jeans and zip. His heart jogged in his chest as his jeans were tugged down, almost to his knees. Only his boxers were left to cover his backside. He knew with dreadful certainty what was coming next.   
“Oh my God. Boring… AH!” A huge hand fell and cracked down on Sherlock’s small, barely clothed bottom. It sounded like a gunshot. He stiffened and cried out at the sudden sting. The pain was electric! It was followed by another, and another. Sherlock’s breath caught in his throat as the stinging pain increased. Each swat found its mark as this huge hand, which covered his entire behind set him on fire. Sherlock tried to maintain at least some dignity but his resolve weakened with every whack.   
Sherlock’s mind turned back to his childhood and the searing spankings his mother had doled out to him for one case of mischief or another. A part of him saw humour in it but he was in no condition to laugh. Still, the big man could have struck him harder if he chose to. They were stinging spanks, but by no means overly harsh.   
Dex worked at spanking Sherlock with the experienced determination of someone who had spanked a lot of bottoms in his day. He held Sherlock’s slender frame still with one hand in the small of his back and delivered measured spanks, meant to superficially sting like blazes but not to bruise. He had no desire to harm this brilliant young man. He was determined however to make this a memorable spanking.   
After a dozen or so swats, to his horror, tears began to spring into Sherlock’s eyes. He heard himself exclaim “NO!” as the sting built. His bum was a red-hot ball of flame! He began to struggle as children do during a spanking, helpless to stop themselves as they kicked and tried to shield their bottoms from the onslaught of a really thorough paddling. Suddenly he choked out a sob. Dex looked expectantly at Irene for permission to end this punishment. She was having none of it. The paddling went on for another full five minutes as Sherlock howled and squirmed.   
“Ow! Please!’ Sherlock sobbed, kicking his long legs uselessly. “Enough!” The swats were lighter now and Dex was feeling a bit guilty for keeping this up.   
‘Miss Adler?” Dex finally said, spearing her with a look of warning.   
“Alright.” She replied. “That’s enough.”   
Sherlock had collapsed over Dex’s knees, boneless and sobbing. Dex stopped swatting and shushed him, rubbing his bony back gently. Sherlock would not be comforted. His tears were genuine and heart wrenching. Dex gently peeled Sherlock’s boxers down to look at the damage. Beyond caring about modesty, Sherlock let him.   
The young detective’s bottom was a blazing, fire engine red. The smooth skin was hot to the touch and looked awfully sore. Dex gently rubbed to try and sooth the pain a bit. “Shhhhh. It’s all over now. Yes, I know that hurts. It’s alright.” He gathered Sherlock up and held him against his chest, rocking him slightly like an upset child. Sherlock wept for five minutes and finally, exhausted and spent his tears slowed to hitches and then to hiccups. Dex stood him up and very carefully pulled his jeans up, taking care not to scrape his blistered bottom. Sherlock winced as the fabric touched him. The giant patted him in sympathy.   
Sherlock stood before Irene, completely broken and   
humiliated. His face, red and moist with tears was turned to the floor. The sight of him twisted her heart.   
he brought his hands up and knuckled his eyes, like a child. A shuddering sigh escaped him. Dex was overcome with pity and remorse for having hurt him. He patted Sherlock’s back gently.   
“Now we’ll make that phone call.” Irene stated flatly. “Any funny business and Dex will finish the job.” She leaned forward and handed Sherlock her phone. He took it and dialed obediently.   
John Watson answered his phone. He’d been watching ‘Britain’s Got Talent!’ and munching on crisps when it rang. He absently answered it. The voice on the other end brought him to attention. “John?” It was Sherlock. He sounded…strange. Maybe weak or ill.   
‘Sherlock? Are you alright mate? Where are you?”   
“Just listen to me, John. You know the phone? Irene Adler’s phone? I want you to get it for me. you’ll be giving it to someone downstairs.”   
‘Sherlock are you alright? What the hell is going on?”   
“Just get the phone, John and do as I say!” Sherlock’s voice had a tinge of panic to it. John stood up, his heart beating faster.   
“…okay mate. Just hold on. I’ll get it.” John walked into Sherlock’s bedroom down the hall and fished the phone out of his desk drawer. “Sherlock? Got it.”   
“Good. Take it downstairs and onto Baker Street. Someone will take it from you.” John complied, sprinting downstairs to the front door, he opened it cautiously. There were a brace of unsavoury looking characters waiting by the door. He handed them the phone. They thanked him and he went back inside and closed the door. Mrs. Hudson came out, always curious.   
“What’s going on, John? Who were those strange men?”   
Sherlock overheard Mrs. Hudson and briskly told John to tell her not to worry about it. he looked up at Irene, who had just received confirmation of receipt of the phone. She nodded.   
“I’ll be home shortly. Stay there and wait for me.” He pressed the ‘end’ button and handed the phone back to a satisfied Irene.   
“Well done, Sherlock darling.” She moved toward him and caressed his face. “Poor darling. Dex, get an ice pack for him and some aspirin.” Sherlock glared at her but kept shut.   
Dex led the young man to the sofa and bade him lie on his stomach. Sherlock obediently lay face down and waited. The weight of the ice pack made him wince and inhale sharply. The giant handed him the aspirin and a glass of water. Sherlock obediently took them. The big man stroked Sherlock’s curls.   
“I’m sorry I had to hurt you.” Dex offered mildly. “I didn’t want to.” Sherlock’s chest tightened and a sob racked his body at the kind words.   
“Is the ice helping?’ Irene asked cautiously. Sherlock spared her a deadly look.   
“Yes, no thanks to you.” his eyes were still moist with unshed tears. Anger was reasserting itself in Sherlock now.   
Irene walked to Sherlock’s side, crouching next to him. “You really mustn’t be angry Sherlock dear.” he glared at her stonily. “Did you really think you could humiliate me so and not get a bit of payback? besides, you realize I could have had you seriously injured instead of spanked.” She chuckled lightly, laying a hand on his back and gently rubbing. “I wanted to spank you myself but I thought you’d fight me so…”   
Sherlock fetched a long sigh. ‘I’d like to leave now.”   
Irene stood slowly and turned to Dex. “Bring the car around and take Mr. Holmes to Baker Street.” Dex complied wordlessly.   
‘What do you have on him?” Sherlock growled, pulling himself up to standing.   
“I know something about him that would make his wife leave him.” She replied matter-of-factly. She smiled coyly and handed Sherlock’s blazer and coat to him. “He’s a real family man.”   
Disgust rolled in Sherlock’s stomach as he dressed himself to leave. Irene came to him once more, coquettishly twirling her fingers through his curly hair. “It has been nice seeing you again.” She purred. Sherlock pulled away from her, not quite brave enough to risk another beating by telling her what he thought of her. “Will you be able to sit in the car?’ She jabbed annoyingly. Sherlock scowled and strode out.   
The cold air turned his breath to steam and was whipped away by a sharp wind as Sherlock opened the car door. He spared the seat a wary look. Dex, as if knowing what he thought, reached into the back seat and produced a plump pillow for him to sit on. Not knowing whether to be grateful or angry Sherlock went with it, easing his sore behind onto the pillow for a rough ride home.   
“You know I am really sorry mate. You know how she is though…” Sherlock spared him a nod of agreement.   
“I know.” he replied.   
Home again, Sherlock lay on his bed, jeans and pants down as John applied a soothing balm to his scorched bottom. He would tell John how it happened but he’d need a day or two to be able to say it without a tremble in his voice.


End file.
